


To be Proud

by HermioneIncarnate



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Post-Canon, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneIncarnate/pseuds/HermioneIncarnate
Summary: Picks up where Look Alive Twenty-Five ends. Stephanie takes an honest look at her life and makes changes so that she can fly. In doing so, she finds new strengths and soars. Mild spoilers. Rating for adult content, language, and smut.





	1. June 23, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
> 
> Warning: Adult language, adult content, smut. This is written for mature audiences only. Mild spoilers from Look Alive Twenty-Five.

A/N: I read Look Alive Twenty-Five over the holiday break, and this idea took hold and refused to let go. I'm not certain what time period the book took place, so I adjusted it to fit the needs of my story.

Selections from Look Alive Twenty-Five by Janet Evanovich:

So here are some of the reasons I'm not married to Morelli. His job. His family. His friends. And the remaining reason is my inability to commit.

The reason I'm not married to Ranger is much simpler. His life path doesn't include marriage. End of story.

~~oOo~~

"We should go to Point Pleasant," I said. "We could lay on the beach and hold hands."

"Babe," Ranger said.

His voice was soft and wistful. Okay, wistful might be a stretch for Ranger, but there was a quality there that wasn't familiar. Or maybe I was projecting my own feelings. God knows, I felt wistful.

We were halfway down Stark, almost to State Street, and Ranger pulled to the curb.

"We can't go to the beach," he said. "Is there something else? Would you like an ice cream cone? Flowers? A kitten?"

"A kiss," I said.

He leaned across the console and kissed me. Gentle. Loving. Wistful.

"Thanks," I said. "I feel better now."

"Anytime," he said.

~~oOo~~

He nudged me inside, set the basket on the floor, and kissed me. "I'm cutting you loose," he said, "but feel free to drop in if you get a sudden desire to use my shower or my bed."

He kissed me again with enough passion to make me think twice about his offer.

"Jeez Louise," I said.

"Babe," Ranger said. And he left.

~~oOo~~

Chapter 1: June 23, 2016

After being guarded twenty-four seven, the quiet serenity of my apartment makes me happy. I give Rex a treat, verify the food fairy hadn't replenished my cupboards, and put my laundry away. After an hour, however, it began to feel a little too quiet and too empty.

I go to the bathroom to fix my ponytail and refresh my lip gloss before grabbing my purse and heading over to Morelli's house. I promised him that I'd walk Bob, and maybe getting back to my normal routine is just what I need to shake the lingering blues I have.

I brace myself for Bob's full-bodied greeting, assure him I'm not hiding any donuts or meatball sandwiches in my pockets and set out on a path through the neighborhood. To Bob's delight, I walk past the usual turnaround point and take an extra-long, meandering route through the Burg. Stretching my legs without an entourage feels liberating (although I would swear I saw one too many black SUVs to be strictly a coincidence drive by cross streets). I find my pace slowing as I beat the return path to Morelli's home, and I sigh when I see it's a full house again.

When I slip through the front door and enter the kitchen to refill Bob's water dish, no one notices me. Anthony, Mooch, and Big Wanger have their eyes glued to the television, engrossed with analyzing and arguing about the ref's call and their instant replay interpretations. It's deja vue a thousand times over.

As I stand in the doorway and stare into the living room, it dawns on me. I'm not scared to commit. I'm scared to commit to this, and for many good reasons. I don't want my lover, my husband to ignore me for sports or to have my homelife revolve around it, especially when I didn't even like the people coming over all that much. Joe's friends certainly aren't my friends, and his family scares the bejesus out of me.

My eyes land on the pool table, and that's when everything becomes crystal clear. Ranger was right. Morelli doesn't want to commit either. No one that wants to have a big, costly Burg wedding, immediately father a Burg-sized brood, and become the sole provider for said large family buys an expensive pool table for the dining room. Morelli is committed to his job, his social life, and his reputation.

Morelli and I have stayed together as long as we have because we are bound together by common interests that have nothing to do with marriage. With the public knowledge that he and I are engaged to be engaged, Morelli essentially gets to continue the bachelor lifestyle. He has readily available but terrific (if I do say so myself) sex regularly and can play the sympathy card to his family (after all, it's easy to say I'm the reason we haven't committed). As for my part, Morelli keeps my mother off of my back by coming to family dinner regularly, his association keeps me in the Burg good graces enough to do my otherwise disreputable job without becoming exiled, and he provides some security when the bad guys get to be too much. It doesn't hurt that the sex is there when I want it.

Both Morelli and I are too comfortable and stubborn to change the predicament we're in, even if it's hurting us in the long run. If we break up, one of us is going to look bad, big time in the eyes of the public. But that's not enough reason to stay together.

I pull out a couple of shopping bags from beneath their storage spot under the kitchen sink and quietly pad upstairs. I only need one to gather up my property. Morelli and I have been off and on so many times that at some point I subconsciously stopped leaving things here to make it easier the next time we would inevitably be off. I look through the rooms and sift through the bag one more time. With a start, I realize I have more things at Ranger's penthouse than Morelli's home. That's something to ponder over later.

I leave the lone grocery sack by the door to look around for the last time. I'm not sad to be leaving, but I also have good memories here, and this feels like closure. I catch Morelli's eyes and jerk my head slightly towards the kitchen. He gives me a lopsided smile and stands to follow me.

"Cupcake, I didn't see you. Should I kick these guys out and start our party early?" he says, trailing a finger down my cleavage and pulling back my shirt slightly to take a peek at my breasts. Morelli has his moments in bed, but some things still strike me as being juvenile; this is one of them. I gently brush Morelli's hand away from my shirt.

"No, I'm heading out. Let's meet for lunch at that new pizza place off Franklin tomorrow. We can talk about how we should have gone to Pino's," I reply. It's public enough that I should be able to avoid a scene, early enough that Morelli should be sober, and new enough that I'll have time to call my mother before the busybodies do. The Burg hates new places.

Morelli chuckles. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" he says, leaning down to kiss me. I can tell he'd like to turn it into a full-fledged make-out session, but I keep the kiss brief and chaste while heading towards the door. Even if I weren't planning on breaking up, I wouldn't want our more passionate moments to be put on display to his buddies in the next room. I have more dignity than that.

"I'm pretty tired after the past week. It's hard work to avoid getting kidnapped and trying to get kidnapped all at the same time. That, and I know being a diner manager isn't my calling," I joke with a small smile, discretely picking up my bag. "Goodbye, Joe," I say, and leave without further fanfare.

On the drive home, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I have to make it official tomorrow, but I know I'm doing the right thing for both Morelli and myself. He's a good man who shouldn't sacrifice his thirties and possibly his future by continuing to be comfortable with me. It is also the first time the decision to break up is coming from a place of rational calm versus the infamous Italian temper.

I sleep deeply, and I wake up at 7 am feeling refreshed and confident. It reinforces what I already know; breaking up with Morelli for good is for the best. That said, I'm sure that I will find myself in the crosshairs of my mother and the Burg at large by sunset. I might want to say I don't care what they think, but my past behavior indicates I do care, at least a little. Right now, the ball is in my court; so, Stephanie, what do you want?

I make a cup of coffee and sit out on the fire escape overlooking my parking lot pondering that question. Is this the best my life is going to be? If I survive bounty hunting to old age, will my claim to fame be the longest living resident of this apartment building? I've said I don't want to marry or have kids, but do I want to die alone?

The most obvious answer is that I can't be a bounty hunter forever. My diet and level of exercise alone forbid it. I can barely do the job in my thirties. There's no way I'll be able to earn a living doing it in my fifties. Again, if I live that long, and truth be told, I'm getting tired of worrying about being kidnapped, raped, beaten, or killed. I idly rub the scar on my arm from Abruzzi's hot iron poker.

Somewhere along my train of thought, Ranger crosses my tracks. The fact is that I'd be dead several times over without his help. I have some innate abilities, or I wouldn't have gotten as far as I have, but I've refused any real training he's ever offered me. As a result, I've caused physical harm to Ranger and his men, and by my best mental estimate, I've cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars. It hurt when he called me entertainment in his budget, but there's also an element of truth.

If today is the day I hit the reset button on my love life, why not do the same for my professional life? Furthermore, is there any way I can repay Ranger for all the assistance he's given me?

That question gives me pause, and I take a long drink of coffee before I return inside, find a pen and legal pad, and sit down at my small table. I've given my relationship with Morelli an honest look; it's only fair I do the same with Ranger. Ranger has made it clear that he is not willing to commit to me, but I know he likes me, possibly loves me. There's no other reason for him to have risked his life to save mine as many times as he has. I might even love him.

I shake my head. No. I'm not going to make any life changes with the hope that Ranger will suddenly declare his undying love to me. There are tales of women riddled throughout history whose hearts are left destroyed by following that path. I will, however, make decisions that result in me being less of a liability and more of an asset in his life. I will also put myself in a position to be able to have a career and income through retirement. My parents aren't going to live forever, and if they were to die today or if I was to have a catastrophic injury, I would be destitute. It's time I started living a life that makes me happy today with an investment in tomorrow.

I begin brainstorming ideas as to what my next career move might be. Heaven knows it isn't in the restaurant business. The things I like about bounty hunting are being out of a traditional office setting and the changing variety of work. I generally enjoy being in the security field, and I like the mental challenge of figuring out people and tracking them down. I hate living paycheck to paycheck, the lack of benefits, no retirement plan, and the constant threat to my life and limb.

I think back to my days at EE Martin. I didn't like sitting behind a desk day in and day out; I hated wearing pantyhose every day, and I drowned in the monotony of the job. I take another sip of coffee and look back on that time of my life with more detached reflection. I did like the sales portion of the work, especially the rare opportunities when I engaged with vendors and clients. In much the same way as bounty hunting, studying people and using my instincts to push for favorable contracts and sales gave me a thrill. I felt I was beginning to make inroads with strong advancement prospects when the company went under, closed down due to getting caught in a sting.

When working a temp job at Rangeman, I always love being around the Merry Men. I often report to Lester, who is responsible for personnel, and I think back to a candid conversation we had my last time in the office. He was complaining about Rangeman's processes, in both human resources and sales. He told me in confidence that he was concerned Rangeman was going to grow faster via reputation than his ability to ensure that reputation.

With that, an idea hits me. I pull open my laptop and begin to peruse the various MBA options near me. I have a general business degree, and I graduated with a 3.4 GPA. With my work history, it should be enough for me to gain entry to a program where I can concentrate in either human resources or marketing. The only question is whether or not I will need to take the GMAT and how I'll pay for it.

I begin to research MBA programs in New Jersey on my laptop, and far and away, the closest and highest ranked program is Rutgers. That's Ranger's alma mater. I embrace my fearless attitude for the day and register for an information session being held later this week. I see I'll need to take the GMAT, but I have time to do so and still be eligible to begin the program this fall. I feel hopeful for the first time in a while.

I glance at the clock and realize I only have an hour before my meeting with Morelli. I make myself presentable but don't attempt any glam before grabbing my keys and dashing out the door. I feel so good about my decision to break up with him; I don't need any mascara.

I beat Morelli to the restaurant and grab us a booth in a quiet corner near the back. I slowly exhale a sigh of relief when I don't see anyone we know. I'm thankful I don't have to wait long before he saunters in, and when he gives me that sexy half-smile, I almost feel my resolve diminish. I mean, do I want to give up regular sex? No. I am going to do this.

Morelli leans down to kiss me before taking the seat across from me. We exchange pleasantries and order a pepperoni pizza before he says, "You look like you want to say something, Cupcake, and I'm not sure I want to know what it is."

That perceptiveness is part of what makes Morelli a good cop, and in this case, helps to propel me forward before I get cold feet. "Joe, I love you. I always will, but I'm canceling our engaged to be engaged engagement," I say, taking off my ring and leaving it on the table in front of him. He stares at it and then stares at me.

"Keep it, Cupcake. We'll be back together next week anyway," he says, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Not this time. I'm sure about this. I hope we can continue to be friends, but I understand if we can't. I think you're a great man, and someday, you're going to make the right woman very happy. I'm sure I'm not that woman," I say, attempting to sound both firm and compassionate for the situation I've placed him in.

Morelli exhales a long sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. "Are you dumping me for Ranger?" he asks, and a bolt of jealousy and hostility flashes in his eyes.

"No," I say firmly, shaking my head. I consider saying more, but I don't have to justify myself to him.

Morelli searches my eyes as though the answers he doesn't have lay within. Eventually, he looks away and seems to gather himself for a minute before picking up the ring and sliding it in his pocket. "I don't like it, but okay. I'm not going to beg you to stay with me. I want to be friends, too, but right now, I need you to give me a wide berth," he says heavily. Then he stands, pulls a twenty out of his wallet, and leaves it on the table. "I love you, too, Cupcake. You're a great woman, and I hope you find what you're looking for when this door closes between us. I'm here if you change your mind but don't wait too long."

I stand, and we give each other a hug that feels like good-bye. Wordlessly, we separate, and Morelli strides out of the pizzeria without a backward glance. I ask the waitress to box up the order. With my new take-charge attitude, I immediately head to my parent's house. We are still in the Burg, and even with the drama-free break-up, I'm not at all convinced she hasn't already heard.

I enter the house and find her cleaning up the lunch dishes in the kitchen. "Hello, Stephanie. I wasn't expecting you. We've already put the food away, but can I can I offer you anything for lunch?" she greets.

"No, Mom. I stopped by to give you some news before you hear about it from someone else," I start.

Before I can continue, my mother is giving herself the sign of the cross and glancing at the cupboard above the sink. "What did you do this time?" she says, sounding like an aggrieved martyr. I don't let her bait me.

"I broke up with Morelli. It's for good this time, Mom. We aren't getting back together. I've returned the ring, and things are amicable between us. Before you get upset," I barrel on, holding my hands out in front of me like stops signs, "I have something else to say you'll like better."

My Mom narrows her eyes at me. "Go on," she says.

"I know I can't be a bounty hunter forever, and I'm beginning the process of figuring out what my next career step is going to be. No, I'm not going to work at the button factory or on the line for the sanitary napkins plant. I have bigger aspirations than that. I don't want to say any more right now, and I might not for some time," I say, pausing to gage my Mom's reaction. She isn't exploding at me, so I continue. "Mom, I know you have dreams for me that involve marriage, kids, and a white picket fence. We've fought a lot about that over the years. That dream isn't my dream. I understand, however, why you worry about me in my current job. I won't be quitting for at least a year a two, but please know that I am going to work to live a life I'm proud of, and hopefully, you will be, too," I finish softly, hating that in some ways I still feel like a kid seeking her approval.

For perhaps the first time in my adult life, my mom regards me with quiet contemplation. "Okay, Stephanie. You're right. I don't much like any of this. Joseph is a good match for you, and he would give you a secure life. With the amount of prodding me and everyone else has given, if you two were going to get married, you'd have done so already. At least this way I have the chance of setting you up with someone new," she says, and I have to repress my sigh of annoyance. Mom stops herself and leans against the kitchen counter and fidgets with the side of her apron before continuing.

"I'm glad you are planning on moving on from that dangerous bounty hunting job. You're a smart woman, Stephanie, and you're capable of a lot more than you seem to think. If you don't want what I want for you, fine, but then show your father and me that you will provide for yourself. We won't live forever, and I want to die knowing my little girl is going to be okay," she says, and I'm stunned. It's the most honest moment I've ever had with my mother, and it oddly echoes my thoughts earlier this morning.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I walk forward to embrace my Mom in a hug. "Thank you, Mom. I will. Give me a little time, and I will," I say quietly.

"Alright then," my Mom says, ending the moment as quickly as it began. "Since you aren't eating here, why don't you take some of this chocolate cake with you?" she blusters while beginning to package up the food before my reply. I smile as I watch her work. Today is a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, misty23y!


	2. June 23, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
> 
> Warning: Adult language, adult content, smut. This is written for mature audiences only. Mild spoilers from Look Alive Twenty-Five.

I'm driving back from a summer class at Rutgers on Friday afternoon when I decide to take a detour to Point Pleasant. Along the way, I reflect on the difference a year makes. This time last year Ranger was helping me make sandwiches in a deli while smiling more than I've ever seen him. Unfortunately, it was at amusement with the train wreck called my life. I was the star in the soap opera that was a hopeless love triangle and a dead-end job.

Breaking up with Morelli was the beginning of a series of excellent decisions. I spent the next month studying non-stop for the GMAT, and I earned a 712, surprising even myself. Rutgers accepted me into their full-time MBA program with an emphasis on marketing. I'm thriving. It might be my determination to prove myself, but I've never had better grades, and I'm on track to graduate next year with honors.

When I told Vinnie that I would be scaling back my hours for undisclosed reasons, he was pissed, but I informed him I would continue to pick up my regulars and any cases higher than Lula could handle, but less than Rangeman typically picked up. It was a perfect balance, at least for me. Lula wasn't able to rise to the challenge of a full-time bounty hunter. In the end, she decided to go back to cosmetology school with plans to open a nail salon employing other former 'hos.

Right about that time, I ran into an old classmate of mine, Michael Rossi, who had recently returned home from a year-long National Guard tour in Afghanistan. We caught up over a pizza at Pino's, and I asked him what he planned to do now that he was home. Michael said the regimented military lifestyle was not for him, and for that reason, he didn't want to apply for a job at Rangeman and was afraid he'd have to move to find work. I told Michel about the opening at the Bonds office, and Vinnie gave him a shot.

Michael took to the job like chocolate frosting on a Boston Crème, and he only destroyed one car and got thrown into a trash pile twice before finding his stride. Even better, when Michael and I worked together, Vinnie was willing to pass along higher bonds that normally went to Rangeman. That meant that I was able to secure a year's worth of wages in three captures, which enabled me to focus on my studies and not flounder in debt.

I roll down the window as I get closer to Point Pleasant and let the salty late summer breeze fill the car. Outside of Ranger and Bulgari Green, it's my favorite smell in the world. I've continued to do the occasional distraction job for Rangeman, and I filled in for Rodriguez a few times doing searches, but otherwise, I have limited my interaction with Ranger. With me being a lot smarter about what FTAs I take on and having a qualified partner with me when I do, there's been a lot less professional need for our paths to intersect.

To make things worse, Ranger left on a six-month government contract over Christmas. I knew by the smell of Bulgari in the air that Ranger had visited my apartment while I slept both before he left and after he returned, but I'm not sure why he didn't want to see me conscious. He must know I broke up with Morelli; I think everyone in the tri-state area knows we broke up.

The gossip started slower than I expected, but when it didn't take Morelli long to move on, things got vicious. I felt like I relived the Dickie fallout all over again. It must be my fault, the busybodies whispered to each other because I can't keep a man happy if you know what I mean. I think it's because of her job; because of her cooking. Because she's getting too old to have kids, it went on and on. I roll my eyes at the memory. To my Mom's credit, she and my grandmother did their best to defend me, and I appreciate their continued love and support. The day it came out that Morelli was seen sneaking Joyce Barnhardt out of his house, my Mom brought a pineapple upside down cake to my apartment.

There's one big difference, however, from when I left Dickie and when I left Morelli. When I divorced Dickie, I made a fiery splash, but then I holed up to lick my wounds. This time, I refuse to let anyone keep me down. I've thrown myself into the Stephanie Plum improvement plan, and for the first time, I'm beginning to feel proud of who I am. My only regret is Ranger. I consider him to be my best friend, but when I broke up with Morelli, it seems one of the unintended consequences is that I broke up with him. After the love triangle, I did make a deliberate decision to avoid sex and relationships in general while I focused on myself, but I never thought there wouldn't be even an illicit alleyway kiss in all that time. I haven't had sex with anyone in a year. My showerhead has long since stopped scratching that itch.

I sigh and frown the more I think about Ranger and me. The distance between us is partially my fault. I know I'm a chicken, but until I have my ducks in a row, I'm a little afraid of putting myself out there. When Ranger ultimately rejects me, I don't want it to be because of any obvious reason why I'm not good enough for him.

On that note, I've also started regularly working out. I'm never going to be gung-ho about exercise, but I do enjoy consistently being able to button my jeans. I've taken advantage of the gym at Rutgers to try a few different classes, and I found I enjoyed Zumba and yoga. I even completed a self-defense course, and it forced me to realize that if I set my pride aside and sought this kind of training sooner, I could have saved myself a lot of pain and embarrassment the past couple of years. Having spent as much of my school breaks as a teenager at the beach as I could, I also developed an affinity for swimming. I'll never enjoy running, but Rutgers has a student pool that serves as a good cardio substitute.

I park and pull my gym bag out of the backseat to change into my swimsuit in the public restroom. I put my bag in the trunk, zip the car key in a special pocket in my bikini bottoms, and head down to the water for a swim. I've always felt that a pool is practical but that the ocean is magical. When I dive beneath the waves, I feel like a mermaid, if only for a second, and I break the surface feeling the slight tingle of magic.

Once I'm out far enough to be beyond the break, I begin my parallel path along the shore. I intend to swim about a half mile before turning around and returning on the same course. It's something I've done more times than I can count, and I'm proud of myself for gaining this competency.

I reach my turnaround point faster than I expected, and when I attempt to reverse direction, I realize with dread that I'm stuck in the longshore feeder current. Treading water to gather my bearings, I see I'm continuing to drift faster than I should be. I take a deep breath and reevaluate my situation. The most important thing is to conserve energy. I change strokes to the side stroke and force my muscles to relax. If I panic, I will drown.

I attempt to turn around, but I quickly realize I'm not a strong enough swimmer to go against the current. I decide to swim with the current to see if it decreases, and then I'll move towards the shore and walk back. The sun is getting lower in the sky, and through the shadows, I see the water ahead of me looks more turgid.

Suddenly, I feel myself change in direction as a rip current intersects my path, and I'm pulled further out to sea. My heart rate picks up as fear creeps into my mind for the first time. Stay calm, Stephanie, I coach myself. What would Ranger do? The current is strong, and I estimate I'm moving around three mph away from the shore. I have to conserve energy, and I can't panic. I recall the lifeguard safety instructions from summers when I was a kid. I need to paddle parallel to the shore, and eventually, I will break free of the current. I look around, reorient myself, and begin using a breaststroke.

As the sun begins to set, I feel my body temperature lowering from the prolonged exposure in the water. To hold back my fear and distract myself from my discomfort, I force myself to think of happy things. The first thing that pops in my brain is Ranger and the look he gave me when I asked him to come to the beach and hold hands with me.

Ranger's expression was wistful, at least for him. I think of how the toughest person I know could be gentle, loving, tender, and passionate. I think of Hawaii and the intense nights of lovemaking we shared. I think of his hands stroking my breasts whenever he plants a wire for a distraction job. I think of how he would sit in my room before he left to do what I can only conceive as an unimaginably difficult government contract. Ranger always found a way home, and he always found a way to save me. I'll be damned if today is the day I'm going to die.

With that focus, I begin to feel less drag, and I angle my stroke to see if I can break free of my undesired course through the water. With a hoot of relief, I'm able to begin closing the distance to the shore. Swimming back towards land and through the breakwater is exhausting work, and when I finally reach the shallows, I crawl onto the sand with shaking limbs. Even though I'm shivering from the cold water and muscle fatigue from keeping myself afloat, and I've never been so happy. I'm alive.

When I stand to begin walking back to my car, the moon has fully risen in a cloudless sky. The walk is long, and my bikini is dry when I reach my car. I opt to brush the sand off and pull my clothes over the suit versus getting wet all over again in the freezing public showers. I blast the heat as I turn towards home.

Reality sinks in during the drive, and I know that without the exercise regimen of the past year, I wouldn't have had enough stamina to survive today. I have a lot to be proud of even without a degree in hand. With that thought, I drive past my apartment and fob my way into the Rangeman garage.

I hesitate a second before getting out of my car. Me showing up in the dead of night is a bold move. What if Ranger has a girlfriend now? What if that's the reason there's been a distance between us? Hell, I don't even know if he is here or not, but the slight tingle on the back of my neck makes me think he is. I know Ranger will see me regardless of his relationship status, but he is an honorable man, and I trust that he would manage his affairs accordingly. Either way, tonight I will have an answer to some of the questions persisting in the back of my brain.

I give a two-finger wave at the security camera as I take the elevator to seven. Ranger meets me at the door, holding it open for me. I see the question in his eyes as he says, "Babe." The single word ignites a fire deep in my belly. I drop my purse on the floor next to the door as I push it closed behind me.

I match his gaze equally, and with a small smile, walk towards him. God, I've missed him. I put my hands on his shoulders and with a firm, but tender touch, run them down his arms until my hands are encircling his wrists. Ranger's back is against the wall. We both know he could easily break free, but his eyes smolder with interest and desire, and he chooses to let me take control. I press my body against his and with my lips millimeters away from his, look at him through hooded eyes and seductively say, "You told me once I could come over anytime I needed a shower or a bed." I blink once, lick my lips and encircle my lower lip in my teeth before continuing with a small grin. "Does the offer still stand?"

Ranger's eyes become impossibly darker, and he gives a single nod with his chin. When I feel him begin to move his arms, I shake my head no with a slight raise of my eyebrows before tightening my grip on his wrists and kissing him until I almost forget my name. As I kiss him, my breasts grind into his chest, and I spread my legs to either side of his so that I can feel his entrapped cock pulse against me.

I catch his eyes again, and I'm taken aback at the blatant need on his face. The blank face is gone, and I feel myself standing on the precipice of falling irrevocably in love. But it doesn't matter tonight, I tell myself. Tonight, I'm going to remind him and me what we have and why it's worth fighting for a chance.

I stand on my tiptoes and place my forehead against his for a brief moment while I catch my breath. I close my eyes as Ranger's body chemistry washes over me, and for a second it feels as though no time has passed at all. I give his luscious lips a quick kiss before kissing him in a slow path towards his ear where I capture the lobe in my mouth. I graze my teeth downward, and I feel him shiver slightly at the release. "Do you remember when you told me you would ruin me for all other men?" I whisper. I plant another kiss in the soft spot just behind the lobe. "Tonight, I'm going to ruin you for all other women."

"Babe," he groans, and I ruin my bikini bottoms.

"Don't move," I instruct as I release my hands and place them on his hips. I'm confident no one has ever told Ranger what to do during foreplay before, and I feel his muscles tense as he fights the urge to take control. It's empowering. I run a hand over the barely restrained bulge and moan in delight as I sink to my knees while pulling down the elastic band of his shorts.

All things Ranger are my go-to shower fantasies, but staring at him now, I know my fantasies have fallen short of the reality. With unbridled lust in my expression, I lick him from tip to base before encircling him with my mouth. Ranger groans, and closes his eyes while resting his head against the wall. I feel like a goddess on a mission to bring absolute pleasure. I hold nothing back, and soon I begin to feel his balls tense in my hands.

"Babe," he groans again, but this time with a hint of warning.

I pull my mouth off of the tip with a pop. "This is for your pleasure," I say, looking up with absolute confidence, continuing to pump Ranger's rock-hard penis with both hands before engulfing him again. Ranger loses his control, even if just for a few seconds, and I hear a guttural groan just before I feel the hot load hit the back of my throat. It's more than I expected, but I swallow it all.

A little of his offering seeped through the corner of my mouth, and with my index finger, I wipe it off before licking my finger clean, never breaking eye contact with Ranger. I stand and turn, beginning to walk towards the bathroom. After a step, I pull my shirt over my head, toss it over my shoulder towards a frozen Ranger, and with a slight smile said, "I think it's time for that shower."

With that, Ranger breaks his trance, and he follows my trail of garments. Ranger reaches inside the shower to adjust the water temperature but pauses before entering the steaming stall. He places a hand on either side of my face and kisses me so fiercely that every nerve ending in my body is afire. I give a slight shiver, and without breaking the kiss, he guides us into the shower. I halt in my backward walk when I hit the wall behind me. I begin to wrap a thigh around Rangers', and he deftly lifts me so that I can cross my legs around his waist. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly he recovers, and I reach down to angle him inside me in one move.

"Babe," he groans through our mouths, and my vision blurs as I become overwhelmed by the utter completeness of the moment. He fills me in a way no one else can come close to touching. I can't imagine this getting any better, and then he begins to rock his hips against mine. I'm so turned on even the small movement brings me to the edge of sheer ecstasy.

"Condom?" he manages, breaking the kiss

I bury my face in his hair. I threaded my arms under his armpits, and they wind up his back with my fingertips pressing desperately into his shoulder. "No. IUD. Trust. You," I reply in gasps, so overtaken by the intense array of sensations our connected bodies create that I seem to have lost my ability to form sentences.

Ranger begins to thrust harder, and that's all it takes for me to lose myself in an explosion of bliss. I throw my head back in abandon as my womanhood clenches around Ranger, and he grips my bottom with one final thrust before filling me, making our connection complete. It's the biggest feeling I've ever had, and my eyes water with the immensity of the moment as wave after wave of love, fulfillment, contentment, and passion wash over me. It's also the shortest sex we've ever had, and I know Ranger lost as much control as I did. It only increases my astonishment at the energy flowing between us.

I feel him lowering me to my feet, and I'm grateful when Ranger sets me on the shower bench. I have no faith in my legs, which are exhausted from the swim and the mother of all orgasms, being able to support me. Ranger sits next to me wraps his arms around me as I begin to lean against him. I take the minute to steady my breathing and enjoy the afterglow, but I'm nowhere near ready to be done. Just as I'm about to make my next move, Ranger whispers in my ear, "Stay, Babe, and let me take care of you."

I raise my eyes to him, and my breath catches at the tender expression on the usually impassive face. Ranger stands, detaches one of the shower heads, and begins to soak my hair. The nearness of the warm spray increases my relaxation to the point of near bonelessness. Then Ranger starts to massage my scalp, and my brain engages a split second before those magical fingers can turn me into complete mush. He's using my coconut shampoo. Why would he have that in here? I haven't used his shower in over a year.

I turn slightly to stare at him with my mouth hanging agape. "You still have my soap," I say stupidly, too astounded to form a more eloquent sentence.

Ranger looks at me with an intensity I can't remember seeing before. "Always, Babe. You are always welcome to use my bed or my shower, but I want you to know that you can always have me," he says. "I've missed you."

When I was least expecting it, has someday arrived? My heart swells with hope. "Me, too," I say quietly, fighting for my composure in this charged atmosphere. I break eye contact as soap runs into them, and Ranger gently rinses my head before continuing his massage of my scalp with the conditioner. He finishes with my scalp before taking the loofah and lights every inch of my skin on fire a millimeter at a time with his attentive ministrations.

I want to protest when Ranger withdraws his touch to rinse the remaining soap away, but then he says, "Patience, Babe. I need the bed for what I have in mind," before trailing a fingertip as lightly as possible along the water's pathway. He grazes it down my shoulder and to my arm before kissing the crook of my elbow. He continues across the crease of my hips, pausing to kiss my pubic bone, and finishes by drawing his finger up through my slit, sending an instant bolt of heat through me. I'm nearly panting with need as I take his offered hand and follow him into the bathroom.

The cooler air of the room is a sharp contrast to the warm shower, and the memories of the cold ocean water I narrowly escaped only a couple of hours ago jumps to the forefront of my mind. Oh Lord, I am so grateful I lived, that I managed to get myself out of the ocean, to have more days, and especially more nights, like this. I have my eyes closed as I compose myself against the swirl of emotions, and I let out a long sigh when Ranger wraps a warm towel around me from behind.

"Are you okay, Babe?" he says, and his attentive thoughtfulness touches me.

I lean back as he wraps his arms around me over the towel, and I rest my dripping head against his chest. With my eyes still closed, I murmur, "Mmm hmm." I take a deep breath, flutter my eyes open, and turn within his embrace. Looking at him directly, I feel the deep-set confidence of someone who knows she cheated death and is living with full knowledge of the value of the current moment, and say, "Make love to me, Ranger." A look of surprise followed by want and perhaps a small amount of uncertainty crosses his expression so fast I barely have time to register it. "Please," I whisper with my lips brushing his, and Ranger lifts me off my feet and carries me bridal-style to his bed.

He lays me gently on the duvet with my head on the pillow. He moves to the foot of the bed and begins kissing my body, starting with my toes and, using both his hands and mouth, begins a slow journey towards my waiting lips. He kisses around my thighs and pelvic area, but only grazes my most tender flesh, causing my back to arch upwards toward him with impatient craving. I feel his smile against my stomach. He remains longer at my breasts, and the flick of his tongue and a light bite of his teeth against my nipples has me dripping with desire and anticipation. By the time he reaches my mouth, I'm incapable of being aware of anything other than him and the effect he has on me.

As our lips connect, I realize that I feel adored. Carlos worshiped nearly every bit of my exposed flesh, and I feel a sense of intimacy bloom between us. I meet his kiss and throw every ounce of desire I have into it. As our tongues brush past each other in their dance of passion, I spread my legs and wrap my calves around his ankles as his penis provides some much-needed friction against my clit. I groan at the surge of pleasure the pressure brings, but as I begin to grind my hips against him, Ranger slides down my body. He places my legs over his shoulders before rolling his tongue against my womanhood. It is impossible to suppress the mewls of delight that escape me as I throw my head back against the pillow.

"It's your turn, Babe. Let go for me. I have a lot I want to do with you, so don't hold back," he instructs, and I do. I grip the duvet while squeezing my thighs together as stars explode in my vision, this orgasm bigger than the last. I writhe against the sheets, and before I've even begun to come down from the high, Ranger slides into me with one motion.

My eyes flash open, and gripping his biceps; I gasp out, "Yes! Yes, please, more." Ranger's expression is one of complete devotion, and our bodies move together in instantaneous harmony. We pull apart and press into each other with the express intention of increasing the other's pleasure and thereby find more of our own. I'm so lost in my focus on Ranger, that I don't immediately notice my building orgasm, but perhaps it never fully receded.

I'm not sure I can hold it back, but I don't want to take my attention away from Ranger. Further, I'm so enraptured with our union; I don't want it to end. I'm struggling to keep my gaze on his while my muscles tighten as I fight the mounting pressure, and I grip his back and bottom even more firmly as I grind my pelvis against his, driving him deeper inside of me.

Ranger moves his hands so that they are gently framing my face, and leans down to kiss me so sweetly that, while in complete contrast of the fervent energy between us, the kiss somehow only amplifies it. "Querida, te quiero," he says huskily before kissing the soft spot of my neck, and I cross the point of no return.

This orgasm is different from any I've ever had as it originates in my heart before cascading through my entire body. "Carlos," I nearly scream when I feel him reach his completion at the peak of my own. In the all-encompassing tsunami of emotions that carries me away in the perfect unity of Ranger's arms, I know that I have fallen head-over-heels in love.

"Say it again," Ranger says, his eyes glistening.

"Carlos," I say with devotion. "I love you, too." Tears of joy are streaming unchecked down my cheeks.

Carlos wipes the tears away with his thumbs before gently kissing me again. He captures me in his arms as he rolls off of me to lay down on the mattress. I curl into his side, and as sleep quickly overtakes me, I feel him kiss the top of my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, misty23y!


	3. June 24, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
> 
> Warning: Adult language, adult content, smut. This is written for mature audiences only. Mild spoilers from Look Alive Twenty-Five.

When I wake up the next morning, light is filtering through the edges of the curtains. I'm still in Carlos' arms, and when I begin to slide out of bed, he tightens them around me. "I'll be right back," I whisper, kissing his fingertips. I make a quick trip to the restroom. I find a couple of Advil in the medicine cabinet and swallow them dry before briefly stretching out my sore body. When I return, Carlos is laying on his side with the blanket barely coving his manhood. His eyes follow me as I slip under the covers.

I impishly smile when I feel his erection, and I use the element of surprise to roll him onto his back and sit astride him quickly. I bite my lip and moan in pleasure as he slides inside my slit and against my clit. Digging my heels into the mattress, I raise my body to impale myself on him in one stroke. Ranger closes his eyes as his lips part slightly. I only barely hear a whispered "Querida," but it's all I need to begin setting an agonizingly slow pace as I pull out of him almost to the tip before grinding down into him again. I every so carefully increase the speed, enjoying the expression of pure need on his face. I pick up the pace so that I'm grinding intensely against him when places his expert fingers on my clit, and with only a couple flicks, I throw my head back while screaming his name. The orgasm is so strong that I collapse against his chest as mind-numbing ecstasy shoots through me. Carlos wraps an arm around my back, and with a couple of thrusts, moans, "Babe," as he joins me in pure pleasure.

I'm quivering from both the intense orgasm and the sore muscles in my overworked legs. My head is resting on his shoulder with my curls covering my face. "I love you, Carlos," I say softly. Carlos turns us so that we are again laying on our sides face to face with his arm under my head. He uses the other to smooth my hair from my face, kisses my forehead, and then pulls the blanket up around us before taking my hands.

"Babe, look at me," he says with gentle leading. I slowly open my eyes and give him a closed-lip smile. "Querida, my dear," he continues, pausing to kiss my forehead again. "Te quiero, I love you." My eyes glisten at his words, and the declarations of love made in the night blossom in the morning.

But I have to know one thing. There has been so much hesitancy, caveats, and even the distance of time between us that I need to know one thing before this goes any further. I furl my eyebrows together as I search Carlos' eyes and gather my courage. "Is this our someday?" I whisper.

"Oh, Babe," Carlos says solemnly, crushing me against him. "If you'll still have me, yes, I hope it is," he says, his accent strong with emotion.

I begin to cry in happiness and relief. "Of course I do! I love you, Ricardo Carlos Manoso," I said fervently.

I tilt my head up as Carlos' lips meet mine in a kiss that's gentle, passionate, and feels like a promise. When we break apart, we lay facing each other with our bodies intertwined and revel in the shift that's happened.

Eventually, my stomach grumbles loudly, and I giggle at my body's impatience. "Babe," Carlos says, his eyes twinkling. He slides out of bed and walks into the closet before returning quickly after donning a pair of boxer shorts. He sets a black t-shirt beside me and departs with a kiss to the kitchen.

I sit up to pull the offered t-shirt over my head. When I stand, my body aches even more so than before, and once again, I remember just how close I came to a much different outcome yesterday. I close my eyes and lean against the bed as I roll my neck from side to side and stretch out my arms and back. I open them again to see Carlos leaning against the door frame with obvious concern on his face.

I force a smile and take the few stiff steps towards him. "I smell coffee, yummy," I say, deflecting the question in his eyes.

"I think there is something you're not telling me," Carlos says, not baited in the least.

I sigh and look down. I haven't told anyone about my pursuing my MBA, and I don't intend to do so until I finish. I'm doing that for me, and I want the accomplishment to be a surprise to those I choose to share. I'm afraid that if I tell Carlos about my swim yesterday evening, he'll use it to discount this new step in our relationship. I don't want to lose him.

"Let's eat, and maybe then we can talk," Carlos says, placing a hand gently on my back. I nod yes, and we slowly walk together to the kitchen table. I take a seat and stare at my hands while I gather my thoughts. Carlos places a cup of coffee and a bowl with yogurt, granola, and berries in front of me. As I rapidly consume the entire parfait, it occurs to me my last meal was nearly twenty-four hours ago, and I've burned a lot of calories since then.

Carlos raises an eyebrow as he looks between me and the empty bowl. It reminds me of the little things we've missed not being near each other the past year. To save money, I stopped eating out as much and began stocking my fridge with easy to prepare, healthier staples. I don't think I'll ever care for salad very much, but a breakfast like this has become a regular part of my diet. "Do you have any more or anything else? I guess I'm pretty hungry," I say with a small smile.

"How about a muffin?" Carlos offers.

"When did you start eating muffins?" I counter.

Carlos smiles back. "When Ella started making them with applesauce as the sweetener, bran, and fresh fruit," he replies.

"Sounds great," I say genuinely. "Thank you." Carlos returns a second later and sets a gorgeous muffin in front of me. I take a bite, and I moan as the taste reminds me of Ella's culinary genius.

"Babe," Carlos intones, shaking his head with a two-hundred-watt smile.

I help with clean-up, and we take our freshly refilled mugs with us to the couch. I set mine on the side table before slowly sinking into the seat as my legs groan in protest. I've been sore from exertion before, but this is a whole new level, and it's clear I won't be able to hide it. More than that, I want a chance at forever with Carlos, and honesty is an essential piece of that foundation.

Carlos sits in the middle of the couch and pulls my legs across his lap. "I'll start. Babe, I've seen more than most could ever fathom, and I've been through a lot. I can't talk about most of it, and it's one reason I don't do relationships. Over the past year, the more we were apart, the more I found myself missing you and wanting to be with you. This last mission was my last. I've renegotiated my contract so that I will no longer do fieldwork for the government. I know it's hypocritical for me to press you for information when I'm not able to reciprocate, but understand that because of my experiences, my imagination is capable of some horrific worst-case scenarios. I want to respect your privacy, but it's difficult for me to see you hurting and not know why," he says, and my heart swells with hope and courage. Carlos was planning on someday months before I crossed his threshold again.

"No more missions?" I repeat with a big smile.

"No more missions," he confirms, and I reach out to take his hand and give it a big squeeze.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you some of what's been going on in my life the past year, but I'm not going to tell you everything right now," I start, and I see the blank face begin to slide into place. "No, please don't close yourself off," I plead, and Carlos raises his eyebrows slightly. "Give me a chance to explain before you pass judgment," I say, searching his eyes. The blank face disappears, and he kisses my knuckles before giving one nod of agreement with his chin.

"I am working on a difficult project I'm not ready to share with anyone. I promise it's nothing dangerous, and you don't have any cause to worry about me. I will tell you what it is in about a year from now. Please, do not spy on me or try to figure it out. The project is very important to me, and I need you to respect this boundary," I state.

"While you think about that," I push forward, "I'll fill you in on other details. I'm sure you know I broke up with Morelli after the deli case. The break-up was cordial, but we don't interact with one another anymore. Not that it should matter, but I haven't dated anyone else since then."

"Michael Rossi?" Carlos queries, and I snort in response.

"It seems I know something Ranger doesn't," I tease in reply, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"Let's just say Michael and Hector share a relationship I will never enjoy with him," I state, and Carlos lets out a bark of laughter. "Michael and I are friends, but we rarely see each other outside of our professional partnership as bounty hunters. He's a much better partner than Lula, and between the two of us, I've been able to earn a living with far less risk to my life and cars."

"Good," Carlos replies, but my curiosity is piqued.

"Did you think something was going on between Michael and me?" I press, tilting my head to one side.

A pensive look crosses Carlos' face. "I thought there might be when you went to him instead of me for help with your job. I noticed your skills have improved, and I attributed it to training he gave you. I want you to know I never judged you, but I was also constantly worried about you. I'm glad you've improved. Your safety is what is most important, but, yes, I thought you had replaced me in your life with him," Ranger confesses, and his forthrightness stuns me.

"After breaking up with Morelli, and then again when you went in the wind, I've spent a lot of time this past year trying to decide what kind of person I want to be both now and in the future," I contemplate. "I've been critically introspective and brutally honest about what makes me awesome and where I have room to improve. I did this outside of the context of a relationship because I wanted my self-improvement to be for me and not because I was changing myself for somebody," I continue, my voice faltering as I worry about Carlos' response. Carlos squeezes my hand and looks at me encouragingly.

"Those reflections are what led me to recruit Michael as my work-partner. I like Lula, and I understand what it is to hit rock bottom and struggle to try to find a way out again. I was happy to support her at the bonds office, but she constantly placed me in danger by abandoning me, waving her gun around, and not following directions. The last straw was when her immaturity caused the deli to burn to the ground. That stunt could have killed all of us, and she never accepted any responsibility for her actions. I thought about asking you for help, but I already feel like I owe you so much. It's more than that, though," I say, sighing. I look away and run my fingers through my hair before continuing.

"I realized I loved you after Scrog, but I wasn't ready to act on it. I felt like we had danced around a someday for so long that it might never happen. I consider you my best friend, and I felt like I was the person who was always taking and never giving. In my mind, it seems better to work on myself as an individual so I could be in a better place for my next relationship. I want that to be with you; however, I have always been fully aware that might not be the case. You have reasons I may never understand to keep me at arm's length, and I guess I reached a point where I couldn't be vulnerable until I made myself stronger. I can see how my failure to communicate with you created unnecessary confusion and hurt. I'm sorry," I finish humbly, lifting my gaze, hoping to communicate my sincerity with my expression.

Carlos remains still with his back against the seat cushions, but his body is rigid. He doesn't match my stare immediately, and when he does, I'm startled by the pain I see. "Babe, don't apologize," he says quietly. "I fail to see anything you did wrong. You're correct. I have spent years pushing you away. You had every reason to take me at my word eventually. I've been an ass, and I was wrong. I should have reached out to you instead of wallowing in assumptions and misinformation," Carlos says emphatically. He turns in his seat so that he is facing me directly, never letting go of my hands.

"The truth is that I fell in love with you somewhere between the diner and when you called me to free you after Morelli handcuffed you to the shower curtain rod. I couldn't believe the trust you had in me when you were so defenseless. You've always given more to me than I have to you. I've given you monetary assets and held it over your head. You've given me your faith, good humor, persistence, joyful spirit, and loyalty. I never saw Morelli as a threat, and I was surprised when you started dating him. I thought I misread things between us, and I know I'm the lesser man between the two of us. I'm a difficult person to be in a relationship with because my life is unpredictable, often dangerous. I might never be able to give you the life I thought you would want, so I pushed you back to Morelli. That was the stupidest and hardest thing I've ever done. There's no reason I couldn't have talked to you sometime this past year either," Carlos says with a fervency I've never heard. The most I can muster is to look at him with my mouth hanging half open and eyes wide open.

Carlos takes in my expression with a ghost of a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. He quirks an eyebrow slightly and asks, "Why did you break up with Morelli?"

I sag back slightly against the corner of the couch and look at the far wall of the room. My mind is so wrapped up in Carlos' confession it takes me a second to shift gears. "We should never have dated, but I guess I'm a slow learner," I muse.

"Babe?" Carlos questions.

"We're too much alike and too different at the same. Worse, there's a history behind us I should never have tried to rewrite. Further, I gave into the expectations of the Burg and my parents and settled on a path of least resistance that was only going to hurt Morelli and myself eventually. I broke up out of self-preservation. I hated the person I was becoming. You've always said that you're proud of me, and I wanted to begin to be someone I was proud of, too," I state, hating the tears that threaten to appear against my best fight.

"What history?" Carlos asks. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes before looking down at my hands. I pull them away from his and pick at the edge of my cuticles.

"Why are we going over this? You already know," I state defensively.

"Let's say this conversation is teaching me a lesson about hearsay and assumptions," Carlos responds calmly.

His tone does nothing to tamp down my growing anxiety. I shouldn't have said anything, but I was distracted and didn't consider my words carefully enough. I stand and walk to the floor to ceiling window on the far side of the penthouse. I wrap my arms over my chest and grip my biceps. My top-notch skills in avoidance and denial are all built around a fierce desire to never talk about this.

"Babe," Carlos says softly behind me, touching my shoulders. I jump as my heart begins to beat faster. I clench my jaw and breath through my nose as I try to get a handle on my sudden desire to run away. "Hey, Steph, it's okay," Carlos says gently, placing his hands so that his fingers rest over mine. He doesn't pressure me, and I'm grateful for the quiet stillness. I lean back against his muscular frame and concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest. Carlos wraps his arms over mine, but I don't feel trapped. Instead, I focus on relaxing my muscles and letting go of the stress while accepting the safety and security of the man who has always stood with me.

"Morelli molested me when I was six, and he was eight. We were in his father's garage, and he said that I was the tunnel and he was the train. Playing choo-choo, he called it. My Mom blamed me. When I was sixteen, Morelli came into the Tasty Pastry, where I was working, and raped me on the bakery floor before writing about it all over town and leaving for the Navy. He wouldn't take no for an answer, insisting I wanted it and him. After my Mom faulted me the first time, I knew no one would believe I never gave my consent, so I said nothing and let people talk. Boy, did they talk. It made my life hell for a couple of years. I was pretty angry about it, and that's why I drove him over with Big Blue," I say in a near whisper as unwanted tears trickle down my cheeks.

The emotional upheaval I'm experiencing from articulating my worst memories is as powerful as it is unexpected. I thought that after all this time I had managed to detach myself more effectively than this. My fingers are digging into my arms as an outlet for the intense tension that begins in my chest and extends outward, and I'm vibrating with the stress of holding myself together. Carlos slowly curls his fingers under mine so that I am holding onto him, and he is holding me. The act radiates calm, and it gives my overwhelmed brain something to focus on. I am loved, and, together, we are strong. I take a deep breath and continue with a clearer voice.

"After I captured Morelli when he was FTA, I thought that would be it. But my self-esteem was in a terrible place, and I guess I liked the attention he paid me. I think I thought that if I got things right this time, it would make the shitty things okay. Yeah, I know how dumb that sounds, but the heart isn't always logical. I believe that Morelli thinks that he loves me, and I don't think he knows how much he hurt me. He's not a bad guy, but he had a terrible childhood, and I think he took some of the wrong lessons from it. Unfortunately for me, I got caught up in the middle of it. Morelli and I were doomed from the start, and I never loved him the way a girlfriend thinking about marriage should. I finally realized that the wrongs would never make a right. It was one of the best decisions I ever made, and I've made a lot of good ones after that," I finish, glad that I sound more confident now than when I started.

I sniffle once and pull my hand away from under Carlos' to wipe my cheeks dry with the back of my hand. "I didn't mean to get all emotional on you," I say, looking down, trying to keep control of the raw feelings still constricting my chest. "I hate talking about this. You're the first person I've told the whole truth to," I admit.

Carlos kisses the back of my head before slowly turning me so that I'm facing him. With the same gentleness, he wraps me in a warm embrace. I still have my arms crossed over my body, and with my ear on his heart and face tucked into his shoulder, I feel unquestionably cared for and accepted.

"Babe, I had no idea," Carlos says, his voice cracking. "You never have to hide what you're feeling from me. I'll never judge you. Thank you for trusting me." With that, my dam breaks, and I begin to cry in earnest. Bringing my dark past to the light is cathartic. As the tears fall, rolling from my eyes to Carlos' chest, I feel like my soul is cleansed. I mourn a little girl who should have never bourn the blame for the wrongs done to her, and a teenager who was scared, confused, and alone; I'm ready to put my past behind me. I'm more determined than ever to live embracing my true self.

As my sobs calm, Carlos sweeps an arm under my legs and carries me to the couch. I settle onto his lap and stifle a groan as my sore muscles adjust to the new position. "Do you think any less of me?" I ask, giving one of my deepest fears voice. If Carlos doesn't see me as a good match for him, I need to know now before I give any more of my heart away.

Carlos squeezes me before lifting my chin so that I can see his face. He kisses my forehead before looking at me with an expression of unconditional love and acceptance. I bite my lower lip as I scan his face in guarded hope. "Not in the slightest. I only love you more," he says. "I'm sorry you've carried that burden alone for so long, and I'm sorry for ever pushing you towards him. I should have listened to my heart a long time ago."

"We weren't ready. Neither one of us. We both needed to work through our issues before we could be ready for each other. I don't hold anything against you," I say evenly in reply.

"Nonetheless, Babe, I am sorry for the times I pushed you away. I've been a jerk, and I did think I lost you to Rossi. I'm glad I was wrong," Carlos says, leaning down to kiss my lips gently. I sigh in contentment and snuggle back into his shoulder.

"Outside of my relationship with Morelli, I believe I gave you several good reasons to take pause when considering a relationship for me. For one, I'm sorry I didn't accept training sooner. Michael hasn't trained me as much as you think. Working with a competent partner has been a game changer for me, but more importantly, I internalized some of the things you taught me as my mentor and finally put them into action. For example, I started going to the gun range weekly, and I took a private self-defense course. I've also started exercising and eating better," I say openly.

"Really?" Carlos says in surprise. I look up and give a big smile at the astonishment on his face.

"I still hate leafy greens and running, but I am enjoying feeling healthier and fitter overall. I've been swimming most of my life, and I've done it a lot more over the past year as my cardio. Yesterday, I went to Point Pleasant for an evening swim. It did not go well," I say, looking down again as the smile falls from my face.

Carlos kisses the top of my hair and gives me a gentle hug of encouragement. The simple touch sends calming comfort through me. "I swam my usual half-mile, but when I went to turn around, I realized I got caught up in a longshore drift. I tried riding it out, but it eventually fed into a strong rip current. It took about an hour before I broke free, but I had drifted fairly far out and was a couple of miles away from my starting point. It was well after dark by the time I crawled back ashore and another hour before I made it back to my car.

"There are two reasons I didn't die yesterday, and they both have to do with you. I knew my diet and exercise stunk, and it was likely I would have a shortened life due to the unhealthy choices I was making today. I've hoped for someday for a long time, and I wanted to be fit enough to hold out for however long that took. I know that if I had gotten caught in that current a year ago, I would not have had the stamina to survive it. As it is, I'm incredibly sore today. The second reason is that I kept thinking of you. At first, I thought of your quiet calm under pressure, and I channeled that to keep myself from panicking, to conserve energy, and to have the patience to ride the current out. Later, I kept thinking of you, because I didn't want to die and wish I had fought harder for us. I know there were a lot of valid reasons for you to decline a relationship with me, and there probably still are. I've worked hard to make myself a better person. If you don't want a someday with me, I will always be glad I made those changes. However, I do hope that you like the person I am today a little more and that perhaps some of your hesitancies have been removed."

Carlos crushes his lips against mine before pulling me closer to him in an equally firm embrace. I rest my head on his chest with my hand resting slightly under my cheek. "Babe, I love you for you, and my hesitation to be in a relationship was never about you, it was about me," Carlos said with a thick voice. "When Rachel and I had Julie, I wanted to make it work with her. Rachel cheated on me, and I buried myself in my work at the expense of my relationship with my daughter. Ron is a far better husband to Rachel than I ever was, and he is a great father to Julie. The entire experience made me question my ability to be the husband, and potentially father, that you deserve.

"I've also done a lot of reflecting this past year, and I concluded that I'm not the person I was. Meaning, I was little more than a still immature teenager myself when I married Rachel and had Julie. In the Army, life came at me fast, and it changed me. I'm much more mature, serious, and responsible. War has taken a toll on my mental health, and I've used the past several months to address that. Counseling has helped me learned how to open myself up to people I trust. For the first time, I feel I'm ready to be in a relationship, and I'm grateful you are ready to be in one with me," Carlos explains, and my heart sores. I pull back and sit up slightly so that we are looking evenly at once another.

"Babe, I am proud of you. You honor me with your willingness to share your past with me. I think you are an incredible woman. I respect your boundaries, and I will not try to figure out your secret, but I do hope you can eventually trust me with it. But Babe, why were you reluctant to tell me about what happened last night?" Carlos questions after a pause.

I got this far by not being scared and passive, and this is not to moment to start. I look directly at Carlos, set my chin high, and with a steadfast voice say, "I was afraid you would push me away again. I didn't come over so you could put me back together, and I don't want to be a damsel in distress continually. When I was in the water, I had a moment of clarity, and it gave me courage. I knew that if I survived, the experience would show myself that I am a stronger, more capable woman than I've ever been and that I have achieved some of my goals. I saw myself as being worthy of love, and if you didn't want me, I would be okay. I decided to act on what my heart has wanted for a long time."

My heart is pounding in my chest as I wait for Carlos' reaction, but thankfully, I don't have to wait long. Carlos' eyes widen, and his expression softens into one of unquestionable adoration. He twists me in his lap so that we are facing each other before kissing me with such passion it makes my toes curl. He has his one hand on my bottom and the other tangled in my hair, and when our lips break apart, he rests his forehead on mine. "Babe, last night was the best of my life. What I said has not changed, and if anything, I only mean it more. I want a relationship with you. I'm all in. It terrifies me to think of how close you came to drowning, and I can't imagine this world without you in it. You and Julie are the most important people in the world to me.

"The reason I decided to end my involvement in field work is that during my last mission, I could tell something had changed inside of me. I didn't want to take the same risks, and I realized it was because I had people that I needed to come home to, who needed me in their life. I love your courage, your heart, your confidence, and your willingness to open yourself up to me. Querida, te quiero," Ranger says.

"I love you, too," I respond against his lips before kissing him again. Carlos lays me down on the couch, and we continue growing our connection in the way only lovers can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, misty23y!


	4. May 18, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
> 
> Warning: Adult language, adult content, smut. This is written for mature audiences only. Mild spoilers from Look Alive Twenty-Five.

Today is the day. I'm excited, nervous, relieved, and everything in between. I'm standing in my assigned room at Rutgers' Newark campus waiting to line up and walk the four blocks with my classmates to the New Jersey Performing Arts Center. Adorned in my black robes with crimson and gold sash and honors tassels, I almost look like someone else. Today is the day that I, Stephanie Michelle Plum, become the first person in my family to earn a graduate degree, and with honors to boot. The Burg can take their marriage certificates and stuff them. A Master's degree is a way better piece of paper.

Today is also the day I reveal to Carlos and my parents what I've been up to the past two years. Hector was instrumental in helping me arrange everything. I trusted Carlos when he said he wouldn't try to spy on me, but I also knew he would figure it out in short order with the number of trackers hidden in my possessions at all times. Hector and I reached an agreement that he would obscure the tracker data and personally monitor my whereabouts for safety if I taught him English. Over the past two years, I've gained a close friend and brother.

I gave my parents a nondescript save-the-date card a week ago, and Hector drove my parents to the ceremony and provided them with entrance tickets at the door. Carlos was a little trickier. I still have my apartment, but I spend most nights on seven. I plan on asking Carlos if I can move in after graduation, but having my own space provided me a place to hide books and study after hours. I blocked the time out on Carlos' calendar, so I know he will be available. I spent the night at my apartment for what I hope will be the last time, and at ten o'clock this morning texted Carlos a dress code, address, and time to meet Hector. It's enough time for Carlos to connect the dots but probably not in their entirety.

This last year has been the most challenging, rewarding, and empowering year of my life. I thought I was in love with Carlos before my ill-fated swim, but I had no idea how much farther I could fall. We're lovers, but he is also my partner, and his unwavering support and belief in me without even knowing what I've been doing has strengthened us and me. We also found new ways to connect. We will never be running buddies, but he often joins me for a swim, especially if I go down to the ocean. We started a tradition of dancing Friday evenings, and Latin dance has done wonderful things to my ass. On Ella's day off, I'm Carlos' sous chef in the kitchen. He never criticizes my efforts or makes me feel small when I'm unsure, and I've gained several small competencies. At least I can boil water without burning it.

One of the most unexpected areas of joy in our relationship is his family. Most of the Manoso clan is more like Lester than Carlos, and they all welcomed me with open arms and hearts. At Christmas, we did a white elephant exchange, and my porcelain stack of donuts cookie jar with a Tasty Pastry gift certificate and pop-gun inside was the "it" gift. Rachael and Carlos renegotiated visitation, and Julie now spends one weekend a month with us. My family will never welcome Carlos with the same enthusiasm, but my mother had the good sense to stop dropping hints about Joseph and every other eligible Burg bachelor when Carlos began accompanying me to family dinner.

I'm shaken out of my memories as the announcement to line up for the procession is given. I adjust my cap, take my place in line, and I can't stop grinning as we step outside. My nervousness at seeing Carlos and my parents vanishes during the walk and instead, I start to feel pride. I know where I stand with Carlos, and if my parents don't appreciate what I accomplished, that's on them. We enter the Performing Arts Center, and I blink at the change of light. There's a hum of energy in the building, but as I proceed down the aisle to my designated seat, I feel the charge shoot down my neck that I only feel whenever Carlos is near. I turn my head, and our eyes connect as he gives me a thousand-watt smile. Hector is seated next to him with my parents on Carlos' other side. Mom and Dad look stunned. Hector gives me a small thumbs up.

We begin the process of standing up and sitting down through protocol and speeches. I feel Carlos' eyes on me the entire time, and it feels like a blanket of love and support.

"Before we begin the procession, Rutgers honors a few of our extraordinary graduates. Most awards were handed out in a separate awards ceremony, but the ones presented today are considered the top honors. First, we invite all graduates elected to Beta Gamma Sigma to stand. These students represent the top ten percent of their class not only in academics but also community service and moral character. Join me in a round of applause!" the Chancellor announced enthusiastically.

I stand and turn my head to give a thousand-watt smile to Carlos. He looks prouder than I've ever seen him, and it makes every late night of studying, the long drives to and from campus, and changes I've made to my life and career even more worth it.

"Our next award is the Beta Gamma Sigma Alumni Bronze Medallion. We present this award to the graduating student who has demonstrated outstanding character; scholastic achievement; participation in collegiate affairs; and potential for civic, business, or professional leadership. This year's recipient is someone who has not only excelled in the classroom, but with her leadership, enthusiasm, and character, constantly impacted those around her positively. She could always be seen helping a classmate, volunteering throughout campus, and challenged the school's curriculum when she identified a need that was not already met by our programs. This person demonstrated how Rutgers could be a greater source of good in our community. As a capstone project, our honoree created a burgeoning non-profit organization to benefit families of deceased and missing in action service members. Over the past year, Operation Blue Star Hope has become the fastest growing organization founded by any Rutgers student. It has received national attention and has already supported hundreds of families in the mid-Atlantic region. It is with pleasure I announce Stephanie Plum as the recipient of this year's Bronze Medallion!" the Chancellor booms as the room bursts into applause.

I'm stunned and frozen in my seat. I never expected this. My classmates reach across to shake my hand or pat me on the shoulder and congratulate me, and it's enough to propel my legs forward. I'm not sure how I managed the long walk to the stage, but with a smile that won't quit and trembling hands, I somehow thank the Chancellor and accept my award. Everyone is on their feet, and I have to fight the overwhelming tears of joy, gratitude, and surprise from spilling down my cheeks. My eyes scan the crowd and lock with Carlos'. I begin my return to my seat as the ceremony continues, keeping my eyes on him. The unadulterated pride and love on his face cause my chest to constrict, and a single happy tear slips out.

The rest of the ceremony is a blur. I smile for the photographer as I collect my honorary diploma and join my classmates in throwing my cap in the air as Convocation concludes. We depart before the general assembly, and I stand in the corner of the reception area to wait for Hector to escort Carlos and my parents to our prearranged meeting place. As I do, I finger my diploma and medallion in astonishment.

I look up as Carlos approaches, and I can't wait for him to finish crossing the room. I jog forward and leap into his arms. He catches me and swings me around once before kissing me with as much passion as he knows I am comfortable with sharing in a professional environment and setting me down onto my feet again. "You never disappoint, Babe. I'm so proud of you," Carlos says, his face echoing every word.

"I'm proud of me, too," I say confidently as a huge grin erupts across my face.

I turn to Hector and embrace him as my brother. "Gracias, hermano," I say so only he can hear. "I'm grateful you kept my secret." (Thank you, brother.)

"For you, Angelita, anything," he replies.

I pivot and stand in front of my parents. My mother has been silent this entire time, a first. With the same persistent smile, I shrug and say, "I told you two years ago I would change my life, Mom. I have, and I will continue to do so. You don't have to worry about me anymore."

In astonishment, I watch as my Mom wipes her eyes with her hanky and walks forward to pull me into a firm embrace. "You did good, Stephanie. I love you," she says in a shaky voice.

Tears flood my eyes. I don't think my mom has either approved of me or said she loves me since I was a small child. Had she hated everything about the surprise ceremony and my accomplishments, I would still be glad I did it, but it would have meant I needed to make some serious decisions about how much of a relationship I would have with my parents moving forward. Never in my wildest daydreams did I imagine she would accept me and my chosen path with open arms.

"Oh, Mom. I love you, too," I say, hugging her tighter.

I'm pulled from my mother's arms by my dad. He gives me an awkward pat on the back, and we take a quick step apart. He keeps his hands on my shoulders and gruffly says, "A daughter of mine earning an MBA. Well done."

I nod back at him and purse my lips as I try not to break down sobbing at the uncharacteristic level of affection from my parents. Carlos places a hand on the small of my back, and I instantly feel stronger. I take a couple of tissues from Hector and carefully dab my face in a quest to avoid raccoon eyes.

We chat and laugh a few minutes longer, and I pose for several photos in my graduation swag. I walk my parents to a waiting Rangeman vehicle with Carlos and Hector. As I wave goodbye to them, I turn to the two most important men in my life. "I have someplace I want to take you before we head back to Haywood," I state.

Hector suppresses a knowing grin, and Carlos looks intrigued. Hector volunteers to bring the SUV around, and Carlos and I move to a shaded alcove along the side of the building. The moment the shadows obscure us from view, Carlos presses me against the wall with a kiss that instantly makes me forget my name. "I'm. So. Proud. Of. You," Carlos staccatos in between kisses. He rests his forehead against mine. "I can't wait to get you back to seven and show you how proud of you I am," he says huskily, and my panties are instantly soaked.

"Mmmm," I groan, my command of the English language temporarily forgotten as I look into Carlos' deep brown eyes.

"Babe," he smirks back before taking me by the elbow and leading me to the waiting SUV. He holds the back door open for me, and I settle in as he joins me in the back on the driver's side. I give Hector an address. As he pulls out onto the congested roads, Carlos reaches over to take the medallion and diploma from my lap. He scrutinizes them and returns them to me with a smile I will never grow tired of seeing.

"Operation Blue Star Hope?" he questions.

"Do you remember when Binky's brother died about three years ago from an IED?" I respond, and Hector catches my eyes in the rearview mirror as Carlos nods once. "He was devastated, and I spent whatever time I could with him, to listen to him and try to help as best as I was able. As the months went on, the conversation shifted from the loss to concern about his sister-in-law. She was struggling through the military funeral process, which for an Arlington burial can be months, death benefits paperwork, how to best financially manage the life insurance payout, how to move and establish a new home, healthcare insurance, and other things. It seemed there were lots of people available in the beginning, but fewer and fewer as time went on. I started to do research, and I realized that we are missing opportunities to serve better those left behind. I wanted to do something to help, so, with a couple of my classmates, we used our talents to create a non-profit foundation to address some of those needs," I explain.

"Things took off faster than I expected, but luckily, I was able to leverage the media attention into more financial support. I found my calling in sales and marketing, and it's unleashed leadership potential I never knew I possessed. Technically, I'm the CEO of the foundation, but as we grow, we'll be interviewing more experienced non-profit veterans to fill out the board. I want this to succeed in the long-term, and I won't let my pride prevent that from happening," I continue, and Carlos reaches over to squeeze my hand.

"I don't think that's possible," he says. I smile in return as a blush fills my cheeks. The rest of the drive quickly passes as I answer various questions about school and OBSH.

"Ah, park here," I direct Hector as we pull up to a five-story professional office building on the outskirts of Trenton that's near the easiest freeway access to Philadelphia. It's a gleaming glass and concrete building. I step out of the car and remove my graduation robes to reveal a smart plum-colored sheath dress with a peekaboo keyhole neckline. I finger comb my hair and reapply my lipstick before setting my shoulders and striding confidently inside with Carlos and Hector on either side. We take the elevator to three, and I unlock a door at the end of a short corridor.

"This is Operation Blue Star Hope," I say, spreading my arms proudly as I show off my baby. The lights automatically turn on as I walk through the workspace. There's a receptionist desk and waiting room near the front with the non-profit's emblem proudly displayed. I open a second door to reveal a warm and comfortably decorated office setting. "We have cubicle spaces along the far wall and meditation space in the rear. My office and that of the executive team's is over there," I show off, pointing to an opposite corner. "One of my goals was to have an inviting space that was both professional but honored the difficult phase of life our still grieving clients are going through. The truth is, we'll probably outgrow this facility in a year at our current rate of growth, but I'll cross that bridge later. And before you ask, yes, Rangeman does security on the building," I say, and Carlos lets out a bark of laughter.

Hector makes himself scarce as I lead Carlos to my office, closing the door behind us, and sit on the edge of my desk. "Pretty great, huh," I smirk as he stands with his legs outside mine.

"Amazing, Babe," he responds, giving me a light kiss before resting his forehead on mine. "Why did you keep it a secret?" he asks quietly, and a small stab of pain at the slight hurt in his voice shoots through me. I place both of my hands on his face, kiss him gently, and hop down to lead us to the couch under the window.

I turn my body towards Carlos' and take his nearest hand in both of mine. "I have spent my entire life feeling as though I was somehow deficient, inept, and often unworthy of love. When I married Dickie, I did so with a deep desire to be loved. His rejection of me and my mother's subsequent disapproval destroyed my self-esteem. I hid my insecurities behind my independence, and I lived a life where I straddled a line between what I wanted and what everyone wanted from me," I say with my eyes searching his. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing.

"You were very clear to me that you didn't do relationships, and I tried to accept that. But some of the reasons you had to push me away hurt me but also challenged me. I don't want to be your entertainment. I want to be your equal. I know you've said there's no price between us, and I know things have changed more between us than I could have ever foreseen over the past year, but those things failed to silence the little voice inside of me that said I wasn't good enough," I confess, my voice becoming quieter. Carlos places his free hand over ours and gives it a light squeeze.

"I began my journey of self-improvement before we became an us, and I needed to finish this part of it on my own. I know that you are committed to me and that you love me. You've helped and saved me more times than I can count. I did this, in part, to give back to you and your men and their families as best as I could. That said, if you look at the corner of my desk, you'll see the picture of us I swiped from your office. You're always with me," I try to explain, knowing the hardest part is yet to come.

"The truth is, I'm still a woman who struggles with feeling worthy of love and acceptance, and of being proud of herself. I was afraid of your rejection, or, conversely, that you would have to become involved or save the project and then I would have failed in my mission to pay back some of the debt I owe," I state, my most profound measures of shame laid bare in complete vulnerability. I look down as my chest constricts and tears flood my eyes.

"Babe, look at me," Carlos says with quiet direction. I hesitate as I struggle to hold back the tears. "Please." It's the word I can't refuse, and with blurred vision, slowly lift my quivering chin as I purse my lips with anxiety. Carlos reaches up with his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before wiping away a tear with his thumb.

"You owe me nothing, and you've never owed me anything. I was wrong and a fool to push you away like that. You are the only woman for me, and the only woman I will ever love. You are a sun in my otherwise dark life, and sometimes I feel unworthy of you. You challenge me to be a better man. I'm prouder of you than I can say. What you have accomplished the last two years is nothing short of incredible," Carlos says gently but ardently.

"Babe, there is no cost between us. No debt. You are my equal and my partner. I love you. No catches, no caveats, no exceptions," Carlos states emphatically. "What you've created here reflects your character, spirit, and heart, and it's beautiful."

I broadly smile as I see the sincerity of his words reflected in his eyes. Carlos looks pensive for a moment and raises an eyebrow while asking, "Do you have any more secrets to reveal?"

"Just one more," I reply mischievously, my visage reflecting my merriment at having the upper hand.

Carlos considers me a moment before a challenge accepted expression settles on his face. He leans over and kisses me senseless. My hair is splayed out around me as my head rests on the corner of the couch with my skirt is riding up as he lightly trails a finger along the inside of my thighs. Just as he's about to brush the outside of my wet panties, Carlos abruptly pulls back and sits up, looking as calm, cool, and collected as when he walked into my office.

"Ugh!" I groan, throwing up my hands in surrender. "Keeping secrets from you is hard work as it is, and now you're playing dirty. I'll tell you anything you want, don't stop!"

"Babe," Carlos smirks, beginning to brush his fingers above my knees again. He straddles me with one knee on the couch and the other on the floor, our bodies almost touching but not quite. I arch my back upwards in a desperate quest for contact before lifting my head to try and capture his lips with mine. I move to wrap my arms around his neck, and he stops his slow travel towards my aching center to grab my wrists.

Carlos raises his eyebrow while shaking his head no with a slight smirk. "Move, Babe, and I stop," he says, placing my hands back over my head. His lips brush mine. "Was there something you were about to tell me?" he says, adding more seduction to the words than I thought possible.

"I gave up the lease on my apartment," I whisper into his ear, and Carlos pulls back with a look of surprise followed by pure joy. "I don't suppose you know somewhere I could live," I tease, biting my lip with mock worry and concern.

Carlos' eyes darken with need as he replies, "I think I could make some accommodations could be made for you at my place, that is, if you find the company acceptable," while sliding a finger under my panties.

I give a shiver of delight. "Oh, yes, definitely," I sigh affirmatively, grinding my pelvis against Carlos' hand. Carlos slips in one finger and then two into my dripping core as he rubs his thumb against my swollen pleasure center.

I writhe against his expert touch. Carlos knows me better than I know myself, and he quickly brings me to the edge of release. He kisses me deeply while using his spare hand to slip through the hole in my top and brush my nipples. "Don't hold back, Babe. I am all about your pleasure right now," he whispers, and I fall into the oblivion of bliss.

I completely forget the order to keep my hands still as the rush of delight overtakes me, and I wrap my arms around Carlos's body to pull him closer to me. "Carlos," I moan into his neck. "Carlos, I love you. God, I love you so much."

As I still in the settling glow of the orgasm, Carlos tucks an errant curl behind my ear and softly kisses my swollen lips. "Querida, te quiero," he whispers. My eyes flutter open, and he helps me stand. I lean my head against his chest as he places his arms securely around me.

"Thank you for everything. These last two years have been a difficult but unimaginably rewarding transformation for me. I would have done everything I did regardless, but to do so with you by my side is oh so much sweeter," I state lovingly, and Carlos kisses my curls in a familiar move of comfort and adoration. It communicates more than a verbose reply ever could.

We find Hector in the meditation space, and he smirks knowingly at me. In the SUV, I nap on the ride back to Haywood with my head on Carlos' shoulder, and he kisses me awake in the parking garage. "Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," he teases, and I blush and yawn widely. He walks around the vehicle to open the door and hold a hand out for me. I accept before leaning back inside to gather my graduation gown, diploma, and medallion. I follow Carlos to the elevator and assume Hector went ahead.

Carlos scrambles the video feed to the elevator with his fob as we step in before pressing me against the wall with a kiss that promises good things when we step off on seven. He pulls away as the elevator rises, and I smile in anticipation of things to come. The trip is shorter than I expected, and I glance at Carlos in confusion when the car stops on five.

"Congratulations!" all of Rangeman yells as Carlos guides me out of the elevator. I stand there in shocked surprise before clasping my hands in joy. There's a 'Happy Graduation' banner along the wall, a cake with a graduation cap and Class of 2018 on it, and balloons tied to the ends of the cubicles.

"Great job, Beautiful!" Lester booms, before spinning me around in a huge bear hug and passing me off to Tank.

"Way to go, Little Girl!" Tanks praises, crushing me in his huge arms. "We had no idea Operation Blue Star Hope was you."

"Yeah, it's scary the way Hector, and you were able to hide that from us," Lester says before waggling his eyebrows. "Anything else I should know, like that you're finally dumping that guy for me?" he says, sticking his thumb towards Carlos.

"Just that I hear you're on moving detail tomorrow. I'm making Haywood my new permanent address," I tease back, and everyone laughs and cheers.

"Put on your robes," Cal calls out from the back.

"Good idea, Bomber!" Bobby exclaims. "I want to see your merchandise," he states, reaching for the diploma and medallion.

Carlos helps me into my robes, and I don the cap before doing a fashion runway strut and turn. The guys whistle and cheer loudly. I bite my lip at the attention, and just as I begin to feel overwhelmed, Carlos is there with a hand behind my back.

Carlos looks at Bobby, and he opens a bottle of champagne with a loud Pop! Lester and Tank open one of their own, and soon everyone is standing with a bubbling glass in hand.

Carlos raises his glass slightly and turns towards me. The room is immediately quiet and attentive. "Babe, five years ago you entered our often dark business and changed our lives with your spirit of acceptance. We are better men for it. You got our attention with your successful albeit unconventional style of bounty hunting, but you took our hearts with your spirit, intelligence, tenacity, and infectious joy. Today we celebrate your accomplishments not only as an honor graduate, earning an MBA from Rutgers with High Distinction but also as the CEO of an exploding non-profit that has already positively impacted several of the families of the men in this room. Operation Blue Star Hope is a reflection of many of the best parts of you. I'm so proud of you, Babe," Carlos says, and my eyes are brimming with tears of happiness. Carlos takes my hand in his and raises his glass. "To Stephanie, congratulations!"

"Congratulations!" all of Rangeman replies loudly before clinking their glasses. Carlos taps the brim of his flute against mine before taking a sip. I follow suit before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," I say so only he can hear. "I love you." Carlos rewards me with a thousand-watt smile.

I take another sip of the bubbly drink. "Now let's eat the cake before Ranger changes his mind about allowing it in the building!" I direct, and everyone laughs again. I walk over to Ella, who is preparing to serve, and envelop her in a warm hug.

"Gracias, Tia Ella. You make me feel so special," I say as my voice cracks. "I don't know how you did this so fast. I'm grateful to have you in my life."

"Te amor, Stephanie. I'm proud of you," she replies, and we both have to wipe the tears from the corners of our eyes.

With a corner piece with extra buttercream flowers in hand, every Merry Man passes me along to the next. Each congratulates me with their special nickname for me and a unique handshake, hug, or catchphrase. I feel loved and home. When I reach Binky, I set the plate of cake down on the nearest desk and embrace him as the tears threaten to fall again.

"I can't say thank you enough. Operation Blue Star Hope has been a Godsend to my sister-in-law," Binky says, his voice deeper than usual.

"It isn't enough, but it's a start. You gave me the idea, and I'm glad I had an opportunity to be able to help. Thank you for sharing your story with me," I say in reply, again losing my battle against the tears.

Carlos materializes behind me, somehow knowing I was beginning to miss him, and he silently passes me a tissue before shaking Binky's hand. He places a hand on my back and guides me a little away from the crowd. I take a deep, stabilizing breath and rest against my rock. "Are you ready to take this celebration upstairs?" he says, seduction dripping from his voice as he pulls me a little closer. A flash of heat shoots through me as the words tickle against my ear. Oh boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta, misty23y!


	5. July 28, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.
> 
> Warning: Adult language, adult content, smut. This is written for mature audiences only. Mild spoilers from Look Alive Twenty-Five.

Ranger's POV

The last two months have been a flurry of activity as Stephanie and I settled into the routine of our new lives. Her fully moving into my penthouse was the last step from those rooms being a place I stopped for food and rest to a home. Steph slowly added her personal touches by adding splashes of color in every room. It started with a throw pillow on the couch and quickly escalated to a fuzzy blanket on a side chair, pictures of us on the fridge, and a painting we selected together from an Art Gallery off the boardwalk in Point Pleasant. It's added warmth and light, and I can't imagine it any other way.

It turned out Steph had one more secret. The Monday following graduation, she assembled the Core Team in the main conference room for a presentation. Steph used her graduate school resources to access as much information as she could about our nearest competitors in the security field, compared and contrasted that with Rangeman's data, and proposed a new short and long-term business plan with a detailed and analytical look at our strengths and weaknesses. She had Lester begging me to hire her before the meeting was over when she shifted gears with proposed programs and process improvements to our HR, sales, and marketing procedures.

Stephanie refused to take on a full-time position, but she agreed to work as a consultant. It's a perfect fit for us. Steph thrives as CEO of Operation Blue Star Hope; it's my joy to watch her prosper. Her confidence, poise, and passion for her work make me fall in love with her more every day. I've already implemented several of her suggestions at Rangeman, and we are on track to have our best quarterly earnings report to date.

I step off the treadmill as I finish my cool-down run and double step up to the penthouse. I'm hoping to sneak through the shower and slip back into bed before Steph wakes up. I love morning sex with her, but I've also noticed that she's been quieter and slightly withdrawn the last several days. Since that morning a year ago after our first night of making love, our emotional barriers fell. I feel a connectedness with her, and I know she shares it. We can often tell what the other is thinking and feeling, even if we aren't in the same room.

I smile at Steph's sleeping form in the dark shadows of the bedroom and silently move into the bathroom. I don't bother with any more than a towel when I exit a few minutes later, but I frown when I notice the bed is empty. Steph never wakes before 0700.

I walk silently into the living room and stop at the sharp contrast of the outline of Steph's silhouette against the large window in the early morning light. She has her arms wrapped over her middle, reminiscent of when she revealed the true nature of Morelli's character to me. I suppress a sigh against that memory. I never felt as helpless as I did when Steph sobbed against my chest after relaying the atrocities Morelli committed against her.

When Steph fell asleep that night, I called the Core Team to the gym, and it was only a fair match when I took Tank, Lester, and Bobby together to the mats. When I had worked off enough of my anger, I gave the order that Rangeman would remove its support of Morelli and begin documenting any infractions we observed from him in the line of duty. I had to talk down the guys from arranging an accident from happening to the pendejo. Morelli was an okay cop, but unbeknownst to him, he's benefited from Rangeman assets paving the way in his cases. Without our help, he's floundered in his career and is now under investigation for mishandling of evidence, witness tampering, and fraternization due to sleeping with a lower ranked cop in the department by TPD Internal Affairs.

I walk up behind Steph and announce myself with a quiet, "Babe," before placing my hands on her shoulders. She jumps anyway, and I can feel the tension on her shoulders. I kiss the flyaway curls on the top of her head and pull her towards me by wrapping my hands over hers. She sighs heavily and sags against me. I glance down at her. Steph has her eyes closed, but her expression is sad and troubled. It makes my heart ache. "Will you tell me what's bothering you, Babe?" I ask softly.

"This is my least favorite week of the year. My ghosts come out to play, and I usually hideaway. I'm sure you never noticed before because I make it a point to disappear. Now that we live together, I'm not going to do that, but I'm also not sure how to cope," Steph says in a haunted voice.

I hug her to me tighter, wanting my presence to be enough to make her feel safer and more secure. "Why is this your least favorite week?" I question, knowing Steph isn't going to divulge more information willingly.

"Morelli," Steph whispers, and my stomach clenches. "This is the week both of the things I told you about previously happened with him. I'm able to forgive and forget, count my blessings, and move on with life most of the rest of the year, but today is a day that historically is filled with nothing but bad memories for me." My Babe sounds sad and resigned. She's kept her eyes closed, but there are no tears. It makes me wonder if she has any left after twenty years of facing this alone.

I hold her tightly against me as I consider how to help my Babe carry her burden. "Let's make new memories, together," I say, and Steph opens her eyes and turns her head slightly to gaze at me inquisitively. I lean down to softly kiss her. "May I take you to bed with me?" I say, wanting her explicit consent, especially while she's feeling vulnerable.

A small smile flickers on Steph's lips. "Yes," she murmurs, snuggling deeper into my arms. In one quick movement, I pick her up, and her blue eyes flashed open wide in surprise. I love the trust she places in me, and I gently kiss her irresistible lips.

I carry her to the bed and carefully set her down while lying beside her. I'm on my side with one of my legs wrapped over hers and propped on up my elbow. Steph tilts her head towards mine, and I slowly brush a curl off of her forehead before kissing the freshly exposed skin. "I love you, Babe. You're in control. If you want me to stop, I will, no questions. Okay?" I say, cupping the side of her face with my hand.

Steph nuzzles her cheek into my palm and sighs, "Okay. I love you, too. Let's spend today making new memories and living in the present with our future together before us. Thank you for being understanding." She places her hands over mine and turns her head to kiss my palm. A slow ripple of love moves from her lips to my heart, and I feel an overwhelming sensation of affection and desire.

We move slowly but with unspoken coordination and unity. Soon our bodies are entangled with a kiss that starts gentle but soon becomes an outpouring of every emotion churning within us. I feel Steph's passion, pain, love, insecurity, desire, sadness, and faith. I demolish every emotional barrier I have and give her my commitment, strength, fears, love, and trust. I slip my t-shirt over her head, and she moans as our bodies press against each other. Her need is palpable as I roll on top of her. Our eyes lock as I slide into her, and I lose the ability to tell where I end, and she begins. In our oneness, we rock our bodies with the express focus of giving the other our whole hearts. I feel Steph's muscles start to tighten around me.

"Eres hermosa, Querida. Te quiero," I manage to say, gently nipping her earlobe. Her fingers grip my shoulders tightly. She searches my lips with her own, and when our tongues brush past each other, Steph pulls me into her with a strength I didn't know she possessed as she comes again and again. My fingers are entwined in her hair as my body stiffens when I find my completion. Her body seems designed to pull it from me, and I lose track of all conscious thought but my Babe. (You're beautiful, my dear. I love you.)

A minute later, our lips separate as we both pant for breath. I roll on my back, not wanting to make Steph uncomfortable with my weight, and pull her into my side. This woman is truly the other half of my soul, the yang to my yin.

"This is the perfect start, Carlos. I love you," Steph says after several minutes. She sits up and kisses me lightly on the cheek. "I hear you're pretty good in the shower. Care to join me?" she teases, the spark back in her eyes.

I feel my cock twitch in anticipation. I'm going to give my Babe the most unforgettable shower of her life. I don't suppress my smile, and Steph giggles before biting her lip and strutting to the restroom. I enjoy the view before hopping up to join her.

An hour later, I'm impressed with the hot water system in the building and Steph's nearly insatiable sexual appetite. I wrap the towel around her, and I'm about to depart for the closet when she quickly takes my hand in hers, halting my progress. Steph silently looks at me, and I immediately understand her unspoken need to be close. We walk together, and I appreciate the strength she quietly pulls from me. Rather than being needy, she's vulnerable and honest, and this expression of her acceptance of the unconditional love I offer is breathtaking. In the closet, Steph takes down a casual long-sleeved white with light gray pinstripe button up from a hanger and holds it up for me to slide my arms into the shirt.

She takes the bottom button in her hands, and after securing it, leans over slightly to kiss the small patch of exposed skin above the fabric folds. Her large eyes glance at mine, and she continues her slow worship of my body until she reaches the final two buttons. Her hands smooth down the front of the shirt, before taking the cuff and rolling it up to my forearms on each side. She kisses the inside of my wrists before finding a pair of dark chinos and handing them to me. I've never felt more cared for by anyone, and it's a moment I know I will always remember.

After pulling on the pants, I remove a light blue sundress and matching lace bra and panty set from her side of the closet. Steph puts the underwear on her herself, but she smiles as I slide the dress over her head. The sundress is one of my favorites. The color brings out her eyes, the slight v of the neckline accents her breasts, and it hugs her slim torso tightly before the fabric flares out, ending a couple of inches above her knees. I spin her around and draw her close to me as I pull up the zipper, brushing my fingers over her breasts as I turn her around again. Steph rewards me with a light kiss, and we finish our morning routines side by side; me shaving and her towel drying her hair and applying light make-up.

"It's nearly noon," Steph says, breaking the silence. "Let's skip breakfast and go down to Pino's. We can make another new memory!"

"What's that, Babe?" I say, placing my hands on her hips.

Steph giggles and the sound is magic. "I'll order the salad, and you order the meatball sub. We can each eat half. The server won't know what hit her," she says, her eyes sparkling.

"Babe," I say with a smile while shaking my head in disbelief.

We take the 911, and Steph gives a little moan of delight when I start the engine. After I back out of the garage, she reaches over and takes my hand, interlacing our fingers together. This comfortable exchange is something I cherish about our relationship. Before, Steph was always hesitant to be physical with me, and I almost exclusively initiated the interactions between us. I thought sex was good with her before, but I had no idea just how good it could be. When Steph let down her barriers and fully accepted me, my definition of good sex turned upside down. Making love to this woman is built through small interactions like this before exploding with passion in the bedroom.

I hold the door open as we walk into Pino's, and I immediately shift into Ranger-mode upon entering the crowded space. I scan the room as Steph and I work our way towards an open table in the back, and I see him the moment Steph does. She tenses but keeps moving. Unfortunately, Morelli stands and blocks our path.

"Hey, Cupcake. It must be destiny we ran into each other today, right?" he croons, running a finger down her crossed arms. I consider intervening, but I wait to see what Steph will do first.

Before Morelli can finish with his intrusive contact, Steph rolls her arm and flicks his hand away before taking a slight step backward. "Yes, Morelli, I suppose it is," she says, disdain oozing from her voice.

"I heard about your degree and that Operation Blue Star, Blue Star, well, it's a long name. Is that why you dumped me? To use Ranger as your sugar daddy to pay for all of it? Well, you should know that I forgive you. Now that you've quit that ridiculous bounty hunting job, and we both know you aren't getting any younger, we're finally in a good place to get married and have those kids we always talked about having together. What do you say?" Morelli cajoles out, completely oblivious the hostility radiating from Steph.

The restaurant is silent as the Burg waits for Steph's response. Then, I feel her body relax as she reaches for my hand. Her grip is tight, but it's otherwise the only indicator of her anxiety as a tight-lipped smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes slowly forms. "How are you enjoying your unpaid leave, Morelli?" she asks with mock sweetness. "Based on the beer belly, I'd say you've had plenty of time to take in all the games with the boys. As for your other boys, I'd have to ask Joyce, Robin, Gina, Maria, Mary Anne, Terri, or, I suppose, any working woman on Stark Street about that. On second thought, I won't. I already know. They've undoubtedly moved on to a man who can satisfy a woman before he takes care of his needs and can last more than one round a night."

I see cell phones video recording the exchange from the periphery vision. Morelli's expression hardens, but Steph doesn't seem phased.

"So, what do I say?" she continues, tilting her head to the side while tapping her index finger against her lips in a theatric demonstration of thinking. "Hmmm…"

I feel Steph become more confident as she rolls her shoulders back, stands a little taller, and places her free hand on her waist in a classic Wonder Woman pose. "I think that as a successful businesswoman and philanthropist, which, by the way, I paid for with that degree with my ridiculous bounty hunting job, I don't need you, or anyone, to take care of me. I do not define my happiness by your standards of securing a husband and having children. I'm proud of my accomplishments and of who I am. Ranger gets that. He's my partner and my equal. Together, we are unstoppable. Leaving you changed the course of my life, and I've never been stronger, healthier, or more secure in me. Morelli, let me be clear. We are never getting back together."

Just when I think I can't be any prouder of Steph, she exceeds my expectations all over again. I want to wrap her in my arms and kiss her senseless, but I'm mindful of the threat Morelli can potentially be and remain still with my blank face in place.

"Shall we?" Steph says, glancing at me before taking a step towards the table behind Morelli. As she passes him, he reaches over and grabs her arm.

"Come on, Cupcake. Let's go outside and talk this over in private," he says, attempting turning on the Italian Stallion charm.

Steph looks at Morelli in disbelief, and I'm half a second away from breaking his hand when Steph spins him around in a perfect armbar. He's completely immobilized, and he knows it. "I will never go anywhere with you. Do not call me Cupcake. Touch me again, and I will press charges," Steph states with unwavering authority. She pushes him into a clustered group of TPD officers and sits down at the table.

Our server materializes immediately. "Hey, Steph. Always nice to see you. What can I get for ya?" Angela Costa says, snapping her gum.

"Hi, Angela. I'll have the Italian salad, dressing on the side, and an iced tea, please," Steph says, and Angela looks confused.

"A meatball sub and water," I state, and she walks away shaking her head. I look behind her retreating frame to see Big Dog walking Morelli to his truck. I feel my phone buzz, and I text Lester to let him know we don't need back-up. Word travels unbelievably fast in the Burg.

I take Steph's hand and place it on my lap as she scoots her chair so that it's next to mine. "Proud of you, Babe," I say with a smile.

Steph matches it watt for watt. "I'm proud of me, too. Today is becoming a great day," she beams. We share our meal with constant interruptions from people telling Steph how good she was, congrats on her degree and business, and tidbits of gossip. By the end, I can see she's appreciative of the show of support but ready to escape.

I throw a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and lead us back to the Porsche. I pull out and begin driving with no particular destination in mind.

"We should go to Point Pleasant," Steph says wistfully. "We could lay on the beach and hold hands."

"Babe," I reply softly, immediately taken back to the same conversation two years ago. Everything in me wanted to say yes then, and I fought it believing I was doing the right thing by pushing Steph away. God, I can be an idiot sometimes.

We are halfway down Franklin when I pull over to the curb.

"Yes, let's go to the beach," I say, squeezing her hand. "Is there anything else you want? Would you like an ice cream cone? Flowers? A kitten?" I query with a small smile.

"A kiss," Steph replies, her eyes lighting up.

I lean across the console and kiss her. Gentle. Loving. Passionate.

"Thanks," she says. "I feel better now."

"Anytime," I affirm, pulling back into traffic.

I enter my zone as we drive towards Point Pleasant. Stephanie isn't the same woman she was two years ago, and I'm not the same man either. She set out on a path of personal redemption, and I'll be forever grateful her journey ultimately intersected with mine again. When Steph decided to save herself, she inadvertently saved me, too. Her sudden distance from me was the kick I needed to face my demons and have the courage to allow someone into my life and heart.

Steph rolls down the window as we approach the ocean and turns her face into the sun. She looks completely relaxed and blissful. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

I give her hand a slight squeeze before releasing it when I place the car in park. When Steph steps out of the car, she's radiant with joy and anticipation. We stroll past a cart vendor, and I buy a large towel. Reaching the sand, I slip off my loafers and carry them while Steph dangles her sandals from her fingertips. We walk a small distance away from a cluster of families on summer vacation and teenagers escaping their families to a quiet spot near the dunes.

Steph and I spread the towel out together, and I lay down with my back supported by my elbows before relaxing completely when Steph curls in with her head on my shoulder. We're a perfect fit.

Steph trails her fingers in a nonsensical pattern over my chest. "Carlos, do you have any hopes or dreams for our relationship?" she asks hesitantly, and I'm surprised by the turn in the conversation.

"Babe?" I reply, wanting her to see if she'll reveal what lead to this topic.

"I know you love me, and I love you. After we agreed that our someday had arrived, we've both mentioned forever in passing. If someday was a relationship, have we already arrived at forever, or do you want something more?" Stephanie says quietly, her fingers halting their travels.

I sit up slightly so I can look at Steph directly. Her eyes often tell me much more than her words. I take her hand in mine. "Babe, I want you to be my partner for life. If that looks like a marriage to you, I'm all in. If that's a committed relationship, I will be by your side until I die. Querida, te quiero," I say with an understated passion. I want Steph to know how sincere I am, but nor do I want to scare her.

Steph gasps. "You would marry me?" she responds tentatively, and her eyes widen. I confidently nod my head, yes, but my heart is pounding. "Ask me," my Babe whispers.

"Are you sure, Babe?" I reply, unable to contain a smile from escaping. Steph nods yes without hesitation, and her eyes sparkle assuredly with hope.

I raise myself to one knee, pull the small box I always carry out of my pocket, and take Steph's hand with the other.

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, I have loved you since the beginning. I've lived the past five years in awe of your warmth, kindness, tenacity, and brilliance. I love you unconditionally. You already have my heart. Would you do me the tremendous honor of taking this ring and agreeing to be my wife?" I say, my eyes never leaving Steph's.

I watch in wonder as I see a peaceful calmness settle over her. "Yes," Stephanie says clearly. "I will be your wife. I love more today than I did yesterday, and I will gladly enjoy the rest of my life spending every day falling more in love with you."

My heart bursts with joy, and I smile as widely as possible as I slide the ring onto Steph's finger. She gives a small squeal of delight before launching herself at me. I catch her around her waist as she wraps her hands around my neck and kisses me with intense passion.

Steph pulls away slightly, and while still trembling in my arms with uncontained happiness says, "Today is my new favorite day. I truly feel free, and I'm proud of myself and you for reaching this point in our lives. I've always wanted to fly. I know that with you, we can both soar higher than we ever could alone. I love you, Carlos."

I swallow thickly. I don't remember the last time anyone said that they were proud of me. "Gracias, Querida. Te quiero." I manage, too overwhelmed to express even these simple sentiments in English. I've always been better with actions over words, and I press my lips into hers again while clutching her body against mine. My hands travel over her curves and through her hair. It's time to find a place where I can show my Babe exactly what she means to me.

I stand, pulling Steph up with me. "I can't wait until we get home," she says with wide eyes, pressing her body against mine. "Please, there must be a hotel nearby we can begin celebrating our engagement," she proposes, reading my mind.

"Babe," I say with a smile, and she kisses me again. This time it is slow and filled with promise. "Let's go continue our forever," I say, bending down to quickly gather our things before taking Steph's hand in mine once again.

"Forever," she says, and we walk fearlessly towards our future together.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta, misty23y. She does an incredible job helping me manage my outlines, check my grammar, and brainstorm ideas. You're the best, Babe!


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